


A new kind of lesson

by kingslayersrogue



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Career Day, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Handcuffs, Officer!Kane, Teacher!Abby, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingslayersrogue/pseuds/kingslayersrogue
Summary: Career Day was harmless, right?Just combine Abby Griffin and her second-grade class with Officer Kane and his handcuffs and find out!





	A new kind of lesson

Abby Griffin’s second-grade class was bursting with energy and excitement.  _ No _ , it wasn’t the last day but it was only  _ slightly  _ less crazy. It was career day, a chance for kids to learn and get excited about job opportunities. Overall she could say she enjoyed it, and sometimes they all needed a break from the curriculum. There was still a stab of pain for her daughter who, with the passing of her father only a year after she was born, had no one to bring in. Although if the young girl had any ill thoughts of the day, she never voiced them.

 

“Alright, the bell rang, settle down now.” It took a moment but slowly the kids took their seats and the talking died down to a hushed whisper. She uncapped a marker and wrote in big neat letters  _ Career Day. _ “You all know what today is, I can see you all trying to sneak glances to your parents,  _ but,” _ there were a few tiny groans and impatient noises that turned the corners of her mouth up just a little. “We have a few things to do first.” She reached under her desk, blindly searching for a specific item in what she liked to call her  _ magic bag. _ (Something that had earned a few raised eyebrows from the middle school teachers.) Once the bright purple hat was situated on her head without spilling the contents she stepped into the middle of the room. The kids nearly jumping out of their seats to form a line in front of you. She looked at them expectantly waiting for the words she wanted to here. “Three five seven nine, number number will you be mine!” They shouted, giggling and laughing as she bowed and held out the hat to each of them so they could select a folded piece of paper. The number on said paper would determine the order in which the child’s parent/guardian would present. “Alright kiddos, who has number one?” Zoe Monroe’s hand shot up like a rocket as she squirmed in her seat. She smiled and nodded at Jackson, her TA, who took Zoe’s hand and led her to the lounge where all the parents were waiting. “Remember our listening skills, eyes on the speaker and mouths closed, and most importantly raise your hand before asking  _ good  _ questions.”

 

“I thought you said there was no such thing as a bad question, Ms.Griffin,” John Murphy called from his desk in the back. “And I thought I told you to raise your hand Mr.Murphy,” she retorted, giggling just a little with the rest of the class. She and that boy had a special relationship based off of snarky comment wars and extra help in math. The door opened and Zoe dragged her father in, almost making him drop the stack of books he was carrying. Librarian she guessed, she was right. 

 

Connor’s mom was next. She worked as a flight attendant and brought each of the kids their own set of wings. 

 

Myles brought in his Dad, he was an auto mechanic and passed out different car stickers to everyone. 

 

Time passed quickly with kids excitedly (sometimes too excitedly) asking questions and sparking progressive discussions. Only a few times did she have to remind them to stay quiet and raise hands. It was one of the most smooth going career days she’d ever had in all her 7 years of teaching. With just a half hour left in the day and Octavia Blake having been fidgeting in her seat for the entirety of the class she finally got her chance for her parent to present. 

Shiny black boots that clicked ominously against the tile floor. Perfectly pressed slacks. Crisp navy blue shirt that did nothing to hide a well-muscled chest and  _ oh god she was staring. _ He waved at the kids and smiled, dazzling and perfectly white toothed. “My name’s Officer Kane and as you can probably tell I’m a policeman.” Her knee jerked, banging against the underside of her desk. Deep, gravelly voice could now be added to the things she shouldn’t think of a certain way but couldn’t help doing so. Jackson gave her a concerned look but she brushed him off, trying to keep herself from staring at the way his shirt was stretched tight around his shoulders. 

 

_ Jesus, Abby. Get it together. _

 

She’d seen nearly every parent brought in today, whether at conferences or pick up and drop off. She knew each of their faces and was able to make decent small talk. Yet somehow she had never seen Marcus Kane anywhere near the school before, or at all for the matter. A dark curly haired boy she had learned (after a few embarrassing fumbles) that was her brother had attended all the events. She really wished she had had at least a  _ little  _ time to prepare for his presence. “First off I’d like to help separate the fact of my job from the fiction. No, we don’t get to go as fast as we want just because we have sirens. Sadly, I don’t always catch the bad guy on the first try. And as much as I like donuts, not every cop does.” The last line earns a chorus of giggles from the class and she nearly groans. Because yes,  _ of course,  _ he’s funny too. “Speaking of donuts, I happened to have bought just a few too many this morning and was wondering if you guys wanted to help me get rid of them.” The kids erupt into cheers as chocolate sprinkle donuts are passed around. Every one of them will be on a raging sugar high, Clarke included, but it’s almost the end of the day so no harm done. (To her at least, she can’t say so much about the rest of the parents.) “Do you guys have any questions for me?” Nearly every hand in the class shoots up, and the room is filled with  _ oh-oh pick me  _ and other phrases. So far, he’s the biggest hit of the day. “Easy tigers I can only do one at a time,” he laughs, calling on Murphy. “Do you have a gun?” She facepalms because what else could John Murphy have asked. “Yes.”

 

“Where is it?” Jasper Jordan blurts, not giving her the time to reprimand him. “Locked away, as it should be when I’m off duty.” 

 

“What about a taser?” Her head drops to her desk with an audible thud that Kane thankfully misses. “Yes, and before you ask it’s locked up too.” A few hands go down and she relaxes a little. For second graders they sure do have a lot of questions about weapons. At least they haven’t asked about his- 

  
“Do you have your handcuffs?” Wells Jaha asks. Her head drops back down to the desk and she gives up on keeping the conversation to other topics. Kane smiles and nods while Octavia jumps out of her seat. “He does have them!” She says after rifling through his utility belt and pulling them out. “Daddy says they’re  _ impossible _ to get out of.” 

 

“Nu-uh!” Shouts Murphy, rising from his seat. “I see people get out of them all the time on TV.”

 

“That’s not real!” She fires back, looking up to her father to settle the dispute. “Alright alright, easy. They are hard to get out of and the people you saw on TV get out of them probably used fake ones.” 

 

“I bet only super smart people can get out of them,” Monty Green says, receiving nods of agreement. “My mom’s super smart,” Clarke says and Abby can feel the horror settle in quickly. “Yeah! Ms.Griffin’s totally genius!” Harper McIntyre exclaims. “Daddy can Ms.Griffin try to get out of the handcuffs,” Octavia pleads, tugging on her father’s belt. His eyes are wide as he looks over to her, she’s still slumped over her desk and trying to hide her eyes. “I don’t know kiddo, I mean I-”

 

“ _ Please please with extra cream cheese!” _ The class begs, using the chant she’d taught them at the beginning of the year. Across the room, she catches Clarke’s hopeful eyes and absolutely  _ caves.  _

 

She walks up to him and sticks out both her arms. “They’ll pester me until summer vacation if I don’t,” She says as he tightens the cuffs around her wrists just enough so they don’t slip off. He gives her smirk, stepping back so the class can see her. “Work your magic Ms.Griffin,” Kane chuckles as she makes a show of trying to escape. Abby tugs once, twice, three times on the cuffs before shrugging. “I can’t get out guys,” she shrugs and only winces slightly at the momentary look of disappointment on the kids’ faces. She turns back to Kane and he jolts, seemingly caught off guard. Had he been staring at her like she had when he first walked in? “You going to unlock these or do I have to fill out paperwork first?” She jokes, loving the way his eyes light up. “Nope, no paperwork,” he says, digging into his pocket for what she assumes to be a key. When his hand comes out empty, she panics. “Uhh, I umm…seem to have…. _ misplaced _ my key.” Her eyebrows shoot into her hairline. “You what?” He laughs nervously, hand carding through the thick dark waves of his hair. 

 

Suddenly the bell rings and her end of the day routine stars. Getting everyone the correct backpack, assigning parent homework, and making sure every child gets home safely. All made harder by the shackles still on her wrists as Kane tries to call in and get help. 

 

“Ms. Griffin?” Derek’s mother questions as she looks between the objects on her wrists and the police car still parked out front. “Career day accident,” she sighs, struggling to hand her the homework packet.

 

Jackson, being the saint he is, drives Clarke home. Leaving her with officer Kane who is still struggling on the phone for help in solving this problem. “I’m terribly sorry Ms.Griffin,” he says for what seems like the hundredth time. “It’s perfectly fine, and please call me Abby,” she smiles, allowing herself to laugh a little at the absurdity of the situation. “Then you can call me Marcus, not Officer Kane,” He smiles. “At least my first time in handcuffs wasn’t a bad one,” she muses but catches the possible implications of the words too late. She tries to clasp a hand over her mouth but it proves impossible with her wrists bound together. The metal cuts a bit into her skin and they both wince. “Come on, I’ll just take you to the station so we can get this sorted out.” She nods in agreement and follows him out the door. When his hand somehow lands on the small of her back, the heat of his touch burning through her shirt, guiding her out of the building. She doesn’t ask questions. 

 

*******

 

“For god's sake Kane you arrested the  _ teacher?” _ Jaha questions as he walks by. “Thelonious, no,” he says, tired of answering that question. “There was an incident with career day. Abby isn’t facing any charges.”

 

“Oh so it’s Abby for you but Ms.Griffin for the rest of us?” Jaha says with raised eyebrows. Marcus sputters for an answer but is saved from giving one when Jaha just laughs. “I’m only teasing you.”

 

He’s searched his car, his desk and even has Bellamy searching his other uniforms and his home office for those damn keys but no one can seem to find them. Abby sits in his office with scarves wrapped around her wrists to keep them from chafing, looking incredibly bored. Groaning in frustration he redoubles his efforts, emptying the contents of one desk drawer onto his desk. Ending up with just a mess and still no keys. He tugs at his hair in frustration and does another pat down on his body, feeling something poke his hand in the space between his belt and shirt. 

 

_ They’d been on him the entire damn time. _

 

He practically runs back to her, freeing her from the restraints and spouting apologies like a fountain. His words die quickly in his throat when her lips brush against his cheek, chaste but still leaving his body tingly and his mind fuzzy. “What was that?”

 

“A thank you.” She pats his arm and walks out. Waving at him through the window right before she leaves. He rubs the spot where her lips met his skin and smiles like an idiot.

 

Abby Griffin’s second encounter with Marcus Kane’s handcuffs is  _ much _ different. 


End file.
